Because of the story
by L.S.Piccin
Summary: What would happen if a serial killer seeks Castle's help to tell the real story behind a series of murders... Just a AU story I came up with... please, just give me a chance. It is a completely ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE where Castle and Beckett never really meet, but they will.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one

It wasn't the first time he had grown nervous before an interview for research for one his book. However, this time it was different. The story he was going to tell wasn't some brilliant creation from his over active imagination. It was a real story. From a real serial killer.

He listened as the guard went over the rules again. Only to make sure he had understood every single one of them.

The basic ones. Don't hand anything to the prisoner. Don't make physical contact in any way. The conversation would be recorded and a guard would be present all the way throw his interview. Even though he would only be allowed to talk the prisoner for an hour a day, it could be ended anytime or interrupted if the guard considered it should, or if the inmate wishes to. If he wanted out, all he had to do was say it to the guard.

He was only allowed to carry with him a pad of paper and a pencil inside the interview room, and it should stay in his possession the entire time. He had to leave in a box outside his cellphone and any other electronic device he had with him, his watch, any object he carried, even his belt… He would only be allowed to pick it up when the interview was over.

The inmate would stay the whole interview handcuffed to the table and, in any occasion, the guard was allow to release her from the cuffs. For everyone's safety, they instructed.

He sign the waiver confirming that he had agreed and understood everything, even the risks.

"Are you sure you don't want your lawyer to oversee this before you sign Mr. Castle?"

The guard –Jenkins, was read on the tag over his chest - asked.

"Are you kidding? He would never let me do this."

He tried to laugh the apprehension away. But he was really nervous with this encounter.

"All set."

A voice, mix with electronic static, was heard from Jenkins radio.

"Okay. The prisoner is ready. Remember: she is a psychopath. She can be really seductive and charming, but it is all a lie. Can and will do anything to manipulate you if she wants to. She likes to play mind tricks, too. Even if you think she is being just friendly or that she will hesitate to hurt you, just keep in mind that she may do just that to get what she wants. Okay?"

Castle only nodded. His heart pounding against his ribcage fast in anticipation.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Mr. Castle?"

Another nod, more reluctant this time. Was him getting cold feet?

"Ready? Let's go."

He took a deep breath by the door of interview room. He really needed to calm his nerves, to silence his fears. They said psychopaths can smell fear and take advantage of it, did they?

He had followed her story from the beginning. From the first body that had dropped when they didn't even suspect she was the one behind all those killings, to her arrest and then her trial and conviction.

He had seen pictures of her on the television during the news or those TV shows that are specialized in the macabre, that followed the blood like vultures and followed the bodies that weren't even cold yet. He had read every article that had come out about her, had see every special feature story about her on all kind of medias.

However, she had never agreed to talk to any of those reporters and sensationalists that were painting her serial killer image to the world to see. She had refused to talk to specialists, psychiatrists, lawyers, all kinds of people interested in her case and saying they could help… She avoid talking to anyone but the police, her lawyer and the DA. Everything the media got from her was what the police and the DA were saying and her lawyer's pronunciations.

Well, she had spoken with the forensic psychiatrist that had been assigned by the DA to her case. But that didn't count because he didn't release anything about the case to the public.

He had moved skies and earth to be able to speak to her and she only agreed to speak with him under one condition: that he would tell her side of the story. That he would listen to her and she would answer any question he asked her and then would write her side, her take on it.

He didn't had to think twice to agree with the settlement as it was. Even if she lied to him, he was specialized in fiction so it wouldn't damage his reputation anyway. Nevertheless, he was obsessed with her story and he wanted to know every single piece on that puzzle. Even if, by the end of it, he ended up publishing nothing. He wanted to whole story behind the cold-blooded serial killer picture that they were trying to sell. The moment he got the call from her lawyer, he started daydream about what would go on during those meetings. He had even come out with a title (wich he still kept in secret).

"I'll be outside watching you if you need anything."

Jenkins reassure him before receiving a nod that indicate he was ready, so the guard opened the door in front of him and he was met by a scene that caught him of guard, took his breath and even made his heart skip a beat.

In the center of the not so well illuminated room, with walls painted on two shades of gray, sitting on a chair and with her hands cuffed to the table in front of her, she was patiently waiting for him. The woman staring at him at that moment seemed nothing as the one the media was portraying. Even wearing those ugly orange prison clothes, Katherine Houghton Beckett, The Vigilant, was the most beautiful women she had ever seen.

Her hair was tied in a loosen bum from where some curly strands of hair fell as a perfect frame for her face with no makeup of any kind. Her hazel green eyes were starring at him fiercely as they could see his soul. Of course that with that overall that she was wearing there was no way for him to pick on her body, but assuming from the little it revealed, he could say that she had an amazing body. The kind that would drive every man crazy.

"You can come inside. I won't bite. Not even if I wanted to…"

She spoke, moving her hands the little as the restraining allowed to show him the cuffs that would keep her from attacking him. Her voice was even more beautiful than he thought. She was nothing like the monster he pictured. She seemed to be a person of manners, polite… The smile she was offering him at that moment was one of the most genuine and beautiful he had ever seen.

He knew she came from a healthy family. That she had went to Stanford for a semester before her mother had been killed and that her father had died not long after that. He knew she had spent another semester in Kiev studying. He knew she was the top of her class at the Police Academy, the detective with the highest case closure rates, the youngest woman to make Captain… All those informations he got from the bios the media had exposed from her, but he had no idea of how she really was like.

He wanted to know more. He wanted to know HER, the person behind the serial killer.

He let go a breath he didn't even know he was holding and started moving to his sit right in from of her, on the opposite side of the table.

"Ms. Beckett, I am…"


	2. Chapter 2

"Richard Castle. Writer. I know who you are."

He started, but she cut him half way throw. He sighted. Of course, she knew who he was. She had only agreed to talk to him because she knew his reputation as a writer and wanted him to tell the story no one else could tell.

"Thanks for agreeing with this interview, Ms. Beckett."

"It is nothing. It is not like I have too much to do lately on death row. And… I needed someone to tell the real story… Not this shit image they are portraying of me."

"Of course. I understand that. And I am here for your story."

There was an awkward moment of silence between them, however it didn't last long.

"You know Mister Castle, most people despise my actions but they didn't even know why I started all this. Why I killed my first victim… And, of course they all knew that all of my victims were criminals in some level… But why it all started? No one knows."

She stopped, watching as he reacted to her words. Taking in every single one of them. No judging, just listening. He probably had already made up his mind about her. At least that was what she kept in mind.

She had a way to speak that was dragging him to her and had the capability of hypnotize him.

"You probably read my file before you came in. You read what they said about me, how they described me. My… condition…"

She took a deep breath.

"They said you are the worst kind of psychopath…"

He said, his words nothing more than a whisper. He couldn't believe on her psychiatric diagnostic.

"I know what they said Mister Castle. But I'm not just that. I'm not a monster. Just one part of me is."

Silence.

"Why did you do that so?"

"Sense of justice?!"

She said reluctant.

"Justice?"

Castle was confused.

"You were a cop? A good one? You have commendations, citations, awards… You made Captain… Why kill?"

Beckett took some seconds to find the right words.

"You know Mister Castle, I believe that it was the Joker that said this… but, madness is just like gravity, all it takes is a little push."

Castle faced her. Kate's facial expression had turned from soft and relaxed to manic and deranged. Her eyes darkened and he could see the hurt, the repulsion, the hate… mirrored there. He could see, when she flickered her eyes, pushing a tear back, with the memories that might had been struck her in that moment, the pain she still holds inside her. That kind of pain that takes control of your life and forces you to live regulate by it.

He could also see the darkness that came after it and the emptiness once she pushed down the pain. Somehow, Katherine Beckett had find a way to suppress her pain, substituting it for what drove her to this psychotic fate.

God, now more than ever he wanted to know her history. HER history, not just the story about the murders she committed, but the one that forged her that way.

"What pushed you though?"

He asked, his voice nothing more than a murmur.

"Not getting justice… I was done with that… seeing criminals get away with murders and not being able to do anything. One day I woke up and something inside me had changed. On the night before I had just snapped and made my first victim… and it felt so good. So right!"

She stopped to think.

"The moment I had his blood on my hands I felt like justice was made. When he screamed and begged for his life… I felt free… happy!"

Her eyes were close, her face turned to the ceiling. A psychotic smile rising in her lips. She laughed for a moment. Not the kind of happy laugh though. The dark laugh. The kind that villains on movies do. That scared the hell out of Castle. But then, just seconds before, the smile vanished from her face and she felt her ghosts take over.

"I made justice for her…"

He decided he wasn't going to take notes anymore at that point. He didn't wanted to lose one thing about her. She had barely started to tell her story and he was already drowning in it.

"I did try to do justice the right way. I did, actually. I was a great detective. But no matter how high I get in the chain of command, there were people that could get away with anything and that makes me sick. One day I just couldn't take it anymore and I decided that, if the justice system wasn't going to help me, I was going to do it myself. I was on the bottom of a rabbit hole from witch I couldn't come out… I just had to do it…"

She focus on his eyes know. Locking her gaze to his. Making a strong connection that none of them wanted to break. She had so many things to tell him.

"From one to another I was this complete different person that could only be satisfied once I had blood on my hands. Once I had the blood from those that got away from justice on my hands."

Castle was starting to think that her diagnosis wasn't too far wrong by now. He could see no emotions, no remorse for what she was telling him. She had killed and doesn't regret it.

"They found very detailed files about your vics on that warehouse… You watched them for months before you killed them. You knew all here routines… you knew everything there was to know about them."

"Research, Mister Castle! I'm sure have already done plenty of that. You must have a detailed file about me too."

"In deed I have."

"It kept me alive. I had to know every little thing about them in order avoid getting caught. Besides, it was important to come up with the perfect plan to attack. If it was better to take them at their houses, or when the where on the streets. If they took their dogs to walk… if they had guns with them… it literally kept me alive."

"I read the coroner's reports about your vics… you kept some of them alive for days before you killed them. You tortured them in all ways that can be imagined… well, I need to give you some kind of congratulation, because even in my twisted mystery writer mind, I could never come up with some of those that you used."

Castle seemed to admire her in that point.

"Killing is just an act… it happens too fast! All it take is a couple of seconds or minutes. But seeing them suffering like the rodents they were, was what kept me on. I needed to see them begging for their lives. I needed to see and hear their pain and their screams… see the light slowly leaving there eyes…"

She was chuckling maniacally, scaring the author in front of her.

"It said that ones were faster and that you took quite some time with others. Why? Because of their crimes?"

"No. I always made this very clear to all of them: the torture would stop when they confess to the crimes they committed and then I would kill them. No matter if they confess or not, there was no way they were going to get out of there alive."

She took a deep breath. Flashes from her kills screening just like a movie in her head. She could even hear their screams.

"Ones took more effort than others. And, as long as it took them to confess, I scaled the level of torture. Some would even apologize for they had done believing that I was going to free them if they did so."

"What about the video?"

"That was for the families. They needed to see that… to see that justice was made. They needed to see those rats suffering just like they made their loved ones suffer. They needed to know was that, in the end, they confessed."

"I saw one of the videos… or at least a part of it. I threw up on some point and couldn't watch it anymore."

"Which one did they give you access too?"

"The rapist. Martin Elwood."

She was chuckling again. She was proud of what she had done with him, that much he could tell.

"Number six. Martin Elwood, 39, officially rapped seven women and killed three. Get away scotch free because the case wasn't to strong and the DA that handle his case was really incompetent. It took me thirty minutes to make him confess. They gave you the lighter one. Because he was a rapist, all it took for him to break was do the same thing him, only harder. He used his penis, I used a modified baseball bat with small blades attached to it that cut his insides and gave his a really hard hemorrhage. When he confessed, I took another bat, one with some pointy nails, and hit his head with all my strength a few time 'till there was not much of head to hit. I was practically hitting the wood when I stopped."

Castle cover his mouth with his hand. He wasn't going to throw up in front of her, but just the memory of the few seconds he saw od the video was enough to make his stomach twist inside of him. He clearly remembered the scene: the man had being placed with his upper body leaning over a table, back up to ceiling, and his legs were spread and tight by his ankles to the table's legs. He wasn't naked, only had his pants and underwear had being taken.

A figure dressed in black and that kept her head always out from focus showed up from behind and started to say some names. Women's names. The man didn't react to none of them and when the figure (who was using some device to disguise her voice) asked if he had rapped and killed all those women, he said no. She then shoved a broomstick on his ass.

Then, she took the baseball bad… The man's screams were still very vivid on Castle's memory. When she first took it out and blood started to pool on the floor between his feet, Castle had just jumped from his chair and got a hold of the trashcan on the corner of the precinct room. Throwing up really hard. He never got to the part where she turned the guys brains into a mashed of brain matter.

And she told that that was the lighter one. He could barely start to imagine what others may have being throw.

"He deserved it, Castle. For what he did to those women."

She broke the silence that was consuming the room and her. Somehow, she managed to say those words with a really soft ton on her voice like she was telling something good. Like she was exposing he love to someone. But she was justifying her actions. She was justifying murder.

How come a woman like that could had done something so horrible to another person as she did? Well, could agree that the man deserved to die for what he had done, but was it really necessary to be that way. What about a bullet throw the head?

"All of them deserved. All of them!"

**_Hi everyone, thanks for reading it and giving me a chance. I would love to know your thoughts on this (if you like what I'm doing here or not) and please be honest. I'm sorry if there were too many mistakes, I didn't have someone to proofread for me and didn't had time to do it myself. I just wanted to post it because I won't be able to do it during the week. Thanks again. x_**o


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

Rick was absorbed, just listening to Kate lost in the story she was telling him. She was going all about her life as detective and later as captain. He couldn't stop thinking that, otherwise, beautiful and smart women like her become layers not cops. He wanted to know why. What drove her to be a cop. He knew that there was always a chain of events that made everything seems right and he ought to find out what was hers. What turned her into a monster.

Media told her story, of course. However, it didn't tell it in all the minimum details. Of course, they dissected her personal and professional life, but he couldn't remember of something that could had started that trigger. It just wasn't there. He knew both her parents were dead but, nobody told him what happened to them. Her mom died when she was 19, and her dad, when she was 23. Nothing more were told.

Looking into her eyes, he could see that she was hurt, that there was some pain residing deep inside her. He knew that she had suffered somehow, and that that left a scar so profound that she couldn't get rid of it. Yes, she was wounded, but she wasn't that wounded.

"Why?"

He couldn't wait any longer, so he just cut her mid-sentence.

"Why what?"

She was confused.

"Why did you became a cop? Good-looking and smart women like you become layers, not police officers. What happened?"

She was still confused and intrigued by his question.

"You tell me Rick, you are the novelist."

"Well, you're not Bridge and Tunnel, no trace of the boroughs when you talk, so that means Manhattan. That means money. You went to college. A pretty good one. You had options. Yeah, you had lots of options. Better options. More socially acceptable options. And you still chose to become a cop. That tells me something happened. Not to you, you're wounded, but you're not that wounded. It was someone you cared about. It was someone you loved. And you probably could have lived with that, but the person responsible was never caught. And, that Beckett, is why you're here."

Kate's eyes went wide. She had struck a deal when she turned herself in. She struck a deal with the DA and they would keep a lot of information away from the press. Her mom's case would never be brought to light, neither for a briefly mention. She was sure it was never on any news forecast. Her layer would had let her know if someone spoke about it, wouldn't he?

Sure, he was the worst layer she had ever met and at some point she decided that she wanted to represent herself during trial. God she wanted to have avoided trial. Just a hearing to the sentence was good, but not, the DA, 1PP and the mayor's office were out for her blood. But her stupid layer had that one agreement, to keep he mother's case out of the news, if he was able to do that until her execution, he was going to win big time.

So, how could Castle had known that something happened to her. That someone she loved was murder and, just like all her victims, the responsible never paid for it. Well, she had agreed with full disclosure of the case, but she wasn't sure if he have had access to all the investigation files.

With his connections, it was almost sure as hell he had been granted full access to it. She knew he was friends with the mayor. She had seen pictures of them together on Page Six several times. She had even briefly met with him in one of the galas she was obligated to attend as part of her duty, to do network. Their conversation was nothing more than "hello" and "nice to me you" and he obviously didn't remembered her. However, she didn't know if his friendship with the mayor would be enough to grant him full disclosure.

"It was your dad, right?"

He was fishing. Trying to get the answer when she didn't say another word. He was right. It all started because someone close to her was kill and never brought to justice. But who? Neither of her parents' death cause were make clear to the media. All they told was that they were dead. Nothing else. So, he was definitively fishing.

"What?"

She was confused again. Why he thought it was because of her dad that she had become a cop?

"It was because of your father's death that you became a cop?"

"No. What made you think that it was because of my dad?"

Her voice broke that time, filled with sorrow. Pain floating on her words. Her eyes, lost the light they had acquired when she began to talk about the good old days on the homicide squad. She seemed so small, so defenseless right now. All he wanted to do was take her into his arms and keep her there. Protect her.

Castle opened his mouth a few time but no words came out. The way she was looking at him, with those wounded eyes, just robbed him from all of his words. Believe it or not, him, Richard Castle, best-selling author was in a lost from words.

Well, he was also afraid that she would take what he did as an intrusion to her privet life; nevertheless, it was already done.

"The watch."

He manage to say finally.

"What watch?"

"The one you had with you when you were arrested and is on personal belongings. I saw that you were wearing it in many pictures. It's a man's watch."

"How… You went throw my belongings?"

She seemed pissed. She seemed really pissed.

"That is privet!"

She practically screamed, fighting with the cuffs that cut through her skin a little. Catching the attention of the guard who just cleared his throat signing her to calm down.

He could tell that she felt outraged.

"Well… In my defense, you granted me full access…"

"Not to my things. Not to my belongings."

"I needed to see it."

"Why?"

Well, she was definitively pissed with his intrusion.

"To build your character! I needed to know every little detail of who you are."

"I am a psychopath. That's all you need to know! You didn't have to go through my things."

There was a brief silence between them. Somehow, those minutes of silence were really awkward.

"I am sorry!"

Castle finally said. Head down.

"I know it was an intrusion. I shouldn't had done that. I am sorry."

He really seems to be sorry.

"It is okay. You didn't know…"

She was staring at her hands now. Avoiding his gaze. Afraid that he would be able to see through her. Afraid that she would let him in.

"It was my father's watch."

He looked at her, trying to find her eyes, but he kept staring her hands cuffed to the table and the small red mark that was starting to settle from where the cuffs were biting her soft skin.

"He died shortly after my mom. He actually killed himself."

"I'm so, so very sorry to hear that."

She looked quickly to his eyes, but shortly after avert her gaze to stare the links of the handcuffs, with which her fingers were playing.

"He took her death so hard that he started to drink. I had to drop Stanford to try helping him, but I lost the battle. One day I arrived at home after a long night shift and he had just hanged himself on the middle of the leaving room."

She pushed back some tears that wanted to leave her eyes.

"I moved out not long after my mom's death. Actually, I was practically kicked out. It was too painful for my father to see me every day. Every time he look at my face, he remembered mom… So, he took the coward's way out…"

Castle was quite. He had lost his words again.

"But it was long after I decided to join the force."

She was looking back at him now.

"So, it was your mom? There was a ring on a necklace too…"

"Yeap… two mementos that reminded me every single day the lives I lost because of him…"

Castle took a deep breath.

"What happened to her?"

"She was stabbed in an alley in Washington Heights. I was back for Thanksgiving and we were supposed to have dinner together. My dad, my mom and I. She was going to meet us at the restaurant but she never made. Two hours later, dad and I found a detective, Reglan, waiting for us at our door. They told it was gang related. Random… but I knew it wasn't. No one was ever arrested for it."

He could see rage taking over her eyes, spreading throw her face. Some lingering pain that fighting back the rage and losing. He could see that she was turning into something else, The Monster, as she referred herself, taking control. Her face was blank. Not even a sign of the pain she was just feeling seconds ago. Her eyes completely emotionless. The serial killer, cold-blooded psychopath taking place again.

"And that, Mister Castle…"

Even her voice, once sweet, seemed different. Distant. Maniac.

"Is why I am here!"

Again, thanks for reading everyone. sorry for the mistakes, i have been fighting a flu on the last couple of day and couldn't proofread it thoroughly. let me know what you are thinking (even if you hate this serial killer version of Beckett). xo


	4. Chapter 4

there is no words to apologize for all those weeks without a new chapter, however I will give it a try. guys, my few followers, I'm really sorry for this delay on the story, but I had been really sick lately and had been under the influence of strong medicines that did help with my writing. If you remember Castle under the influence of medicines during 05x19, well, I was way worst.

hope you enjoy this chapter and i promise a new one soon.

kisses

Chapter Four

It was just like she had been replaced at that moment. It was just like one of those magic tricks where the magician makes his assistant disappear and, in the following second, another woman shows up on her place.

The Katherine Beckett that had almost cried when she was talking about her dad was long gone and was replace by some unemotional, cold and fearless creature, incapable of feeling anything, not even the slightest shad of any kind of feeling out there. Her eyes dark and cold, while all her muscles seemed to tense up.

The Monster had taken place. Full of rage and despise.

They had told him about that. They had descried him what she would become when the other thing took place. He had read the psychiatrist report where her "condition" was described as multiple personality disorder. That whenever The Monster took over, every shred of the kind and good portion of her personality was gone.

Whenever The Monster took place. Kate Beckett, honored police officer, incredible friend, devoted daughter, was gone.

"Don't fear me, Mister Castle. I don't kill innocent people and, as far as I know, you didn't do anything wrong, did you?"

They said psychopaths can smell fear, and Castle was almost believing that to be true. When the change came, it scared him like hell. Yeap, she had already acted maniac earlier on the interview, but not at this level.

"Who are you?"

He manage to ask, his words weak and scared, almost failing.

She laugh. A weird laugh. A crazy laugh.

"What a silly question to ask Mister Castle. Thought writhers where masters with words."

He was getting more and more afraid after every single word she spoke. The way she spoke every single word sent chills under his skin. The evil smile on the corner of her lips terrifying him even more.

"It is me. Katherine Houghton Beckett, or Kate to my friends, Captain Beckett or just Beckett to my subordinates, Katie to my dead parents, K-Becks to my college friends, Kit Kat to an old boyfriend. Born in November 17, 1979 in Manhattan. Federal inmate number 41319, which is the same number of my badge. Execution day May 11."

Silence.

"You are not Katherine Beckett."

"Of course I am her…"

She stared at Castle and he could see the craziness in her eyes.

"Well, I am the other her. The one that kills. She is always back and forth with my name. Sometimes she calls me "that voice" others, "the monster". I kind of like the last one better."

She over exaggerated when she called herself "the monster", really proud of the nickname.

"I suits me."

Castle was silent. He was considering what to say next. His time was almost over and he needed to put every single second to good use while "The Monster" was on. He needed to extract everything possible from the other one, not knowing if it would happen again.

"Why?"

He asked. Reluctant first.

"The second personality? Why you?"

"Katie is too nice to kill anyone, so I take over. Every time she shot someone before all this started, it was me who was pulling the trigger. Not her. I have always been there, locked inside her mind. The devil voice on all the good and bad struggle. But… When she freaked out, I started to take over. When she lost the bettle…"

"When did it started?"

"It was when Dick Coonan got out. He practically confessed being involved in mom's death. On her way home, she paid a visit to a liquor store and bought a bottle of scotch… Drank it all while crying and struggle with the need to make justice. So… I took place. I found him that night and started putting every piece together. I got some answers from him… but he died before I could get the name of the person behind. Then, a guy that killed a little girl was considered innocent because one lab tech fucked up. I needed to do to him what he did to that little girl."

She looked to the guard on her left then back to Castle. She wanted him to reassure her she still had time.

"Scott Dunn. He killed a little girl. He raped her for three days before he actually decided to spare her life, killing her with blows to the head. Multiple trauma to the head and torso, was what Lannie, the coroner said on her report. She was his sister's daughter and he was taking care of her wile her mother was travelling… I found him a placed him on a bed with his ass up… I gave him the opportunity to choose which object he wanted to be inserted on him and when. Then, after three days torturing him on the worst ways possible, o took my bat, the same one I used latter on Martin, and I started to brake every single fucking bone on his body."

Castle swallowed hard. His overactive imagination starting to take a toll. He had seem the files from Scott Dunn's case. What he had done to his little nice and what Beckett had done to him… he could picture everything as if it was being portrayed right in front of him. The way she would have tortured him. The way she would be smiling while swinging the bat. The sound of his bone braking. His screams. Him begging for her to stop…

She disgust him right now. She really, really disgust him at that moment. He couldn't believe how someone could act like that. How a person, a human being, could do what she did to another person. There was no way to justify the things she did, there was no way to justify her brutality, her lack for compassion for the other.

No matter how was the other person. He couldn't accept the things she has done, not even considering them as vicious criminals, they ended up becoming victims and she, she ended up becoming one of them.


End file.
